The Lab Rat
by Ikonopeiston
Summary: The sequel to An End to Innocence. Nooj is fifteen and a cadet in training for the Spiran Army. Kaith and Nepetu are also in this story. The conclusion of this story.
1. Chapter 1

This is the sequel to _An End to Innocence_, which is itself the third episode in a series of stories about the adolescence of Nooj. This series is an attempt to fill in some of the gaps and to explain the reason for some of his tastes and attitudes in later life. It is exactly as canonical as I wish to make it.

The main character and the surroundings are the property of Square/Enix. The intellectual property is my own.

**The Lab Rat**

"I would like to hear your opinions on how the experiment is working out." Jounne, Captain and Commandant of the Calm Lands Training Camp , addressed his senior staff at their weekly meeting. "You have had four months to observe and evaluate."

"He seems to be settling down nicely," answered Dvala. "He reports for his tutorials every morning and is making good progress in his understanding of strategy."

"It was never his intelligence which was the problem," interrupted Armaq, the second in command. "But I agree, he is far less edgy and gets along with the other cadets better."

Jounne steepled his fingers, "I am glad to hear that. I want him to be sent on a mission with a group under his command soon. I need to see if he has better judgment this year. How is he getting along with his adjutant?"

Pathel smiled. "Are you sure you want to risk losing another student in case his judgment hasn't improved?" He hastened to add, "Just thinking out loud. He's still sleeping with that Queen Coeurl; I see them coiled up like an old married couple every night when I check the barracks."

"You asked about the adjutant," Whainlee, the chief weapons instructor, tucked her hair back behind her ears. "The medical clerk told me the girl, Kaith, has applied for a noncon injection."

"She had not done so before?" Jounne lifted an eyebrow in surprise.

"Not many of the girls do before their third year." Whainlee explained off-handedly. "I don't know if this action has anything to do with Nooj but it seems likely. They spend a lot of time together."

"Maybe it's the girl and not the cat that's making him so content." Dvala muttered.

Jounne shook his head ruefully. "Young men will be young. And young women too. I suppose that means ... ?"

"Probably. I can't see him hold back if she is willing. He has always been older than his years." Armaq observed.

"No scandal?"

"None. He is also discreet beyond his age."

Jounne nodded, "That's true enough. He didn't try to play the martyr after his flogging last year. But, then, he didn't have to. His fellow cadets were more than eager to embellish the facts. Well, if he is not becoming a scandal, we need take no official notice of his ... little fling. Is there any sign that the others are noticing and resenting his privileges?"

"Not that I have noted," Armaq was the one charged with overseeing morale. "They are vaguely aware that he is freer than they are but he has always been the A Cadet so they just lay it off to that. In a way, they seem proud of him. He's a bit of a trophy with the cat and the marks on his back. The senior class doesn't have anything like him. It helps he doesn't flout his rank or boast about what he gets away with."

"No. That's true. Discreet, as we have said. All right, I want a proposal for a special mission for him and about half a dozen others on my desk within two weeks." Jounne dismissed the Council.

As he left the room, Pathel mumbled under his breath. "I still think sleeping with a fiend is unnatural."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

She liked to stroke the face as smooth as her own but so different in structure. It pleased her to watch her white fingers slide across his amber skin and to let her startlingly blue eyes gaze into the mahogany pupils of her lover.

They had been thrust together when she had been named to second him in the cadet command of the Second Year. And they had been accordingly drawn together by a similar taciturn manner. Their meeting had been a point of combustion. It had probably been sheer chance that they had encountered one another at the exact moment each was primed to make the move from childhood to an adult state and it was fortuitous they were so well matched.

With some awkwardness, they had initiated each the other into the mysteries of physical love. Since that occasion, they had continued their clandestine meetings with ever increasing enthusiasm but absolute discretion. Since they were both private in their habits and chose not to reveal much of themselves to the world, discretion was an easy decision.

Kaith lazily rolled over on the mossy surface of the niche they had discovered and made their own. "Hey, Nepetu," she scratched behind the ears of the coeurl kit which lay sprawled on its back beside them, its paws waving gently in time with its sonorous purrs.

Nooj pulled her back to face him. "Pay attention to your job, woman." He raised a single eyebrow in his equivalent of a broad smile. "I'm on this side."

"Sorry, it's easy to confuse the two of you." She snuggled her head into the hollow where his neck joined his shoulder. "Maybe if you learned to talk?"

"What do you want to talk about? I thought you preferred action." He stroked her in a way she adored.

"There are other things," she pushed his hand away with a playful gesture. "I was lying here, looking at the sky and thinking how unlikely all this is. My parents did not want me to be a cadet. They thought I was too nice-minded to be a Warrior."

Nooj propped himself on his elbows and gave her his full attention. "But you had to do your three years service, what did they want you to do?"

"On, the usual things for girls in our group – Healer training, a little light nursing, taking care of orphan children, you know the drill, safe stuff where you go home at night."

"No, I have never been an upper class girl. I didn't know you could do those things instead of being a cadet."

Kaith looked at him in surprise. "Everybody knows that. You don't have to be a Warrior if you have contacts. Even boys can get out." She watched him through slitted eyes. "Didn't your parents know that?"

He covered his eyes with his forearm. "My parents died when I was six. I don't know what they knew. What I know is that I was always bred to be a Warrior."

She was always quick with her sympathy. "I'm sorry. Sin?"

"Yes. He destroyed most of our village and my parents were amongst the majority."

"Want to talk about it?"

"There's nothing to say. It's no different from what happened to a lot of others on Spira. Sin kills people; that's what he does." But it was different. When the Ur-Fiend had struck Kilika, destroying most of the structures on the island, the ensuing tsunami not only killed his parents but swept the boy out to sea.

"I floated around for a few days," he spoke dreamily as though recounting some imagined story he had read or heard somewhere. "There was a tree and I grabbed its branches. I think I must have slept. Not much in my memory."

Kaith placed her hand on his chest gently and felt the steady beating of his heart. It was a little faster than usual but his breathing remained calm and regular. She began to mentally weave his disjointed phrases into a sort of history.

"Washed up finally at a creek mouth and stayed there since the water was fresh." He continued slowly. "Don't remember eating but I was thirsty all the time and the water was good." He had not looked at her since he had started the laconic narration. "Finally, some search party found me. They were looking for survivors and were about to quit when they saw me, naked as a grub, sprawled on the sand. They said I was near starved – I don't remember. Took me back to the village and gave me to my uncle, mother's brother. That's all."

She still did not speak, instead embracing him with her arms and legs, trying to warm his body which had begun to shiver. Nooj did not seem aware of his shaking, being still frozen in the world his own words had conjured up for him. His gaze was bleakly vacant and he did not respond to her touch.

The coeurl rose smoothly from its position and walked around to its master's side. The tufted whiskers brushed his ears as the animal bent to lick the boy's face, then pushed its soft fur against his torso and began to purr. The heat of the cat and its firm pressure stilled the tremors and Nooj tightened his arm around his pet, digging his fingers into the dense pelt with a relieved sigh.

"And that's why I'm here as a cadet. I never thought I would be anything else." He lifted the corners of his lips although his eyes remained empty of any emotion. "Good cat," he rumpled the head of the beast. "Are you glad you decided to join the Army?" He finally focused on the girl who lay close against him. With one finger, he traced a line from the little indentation at the base of her throat down to the curve of her breasts. She moaned with pleasure and opened the buttons in her shirt to permit easy access to his hands and lips. She loved his touch, so gentle yet so demanding.

Later, they relaxed, her head on the flank of the coeurl kit, his propped up by the hands clasped under his neck. "Did you get that injection?" Nooj inquired lazily.

"Yep. No worries about becoming parents without meaning to."

"That would ruin your career and wouldn't do much for mine." He turned to look at her with a quizzical tilt of the brow.

"It would sure make you more noticed than you are already. A father at fifteen!" Kaith laughed. "No, I asked and received last week. Nobody seemed surprised. I guess there must be more of this going on than we know."

"I guess so. Why not? It has its moments." He pinched her in an intimate place and she returned the courtesy with a giggle. In a trice, they were rolling about and wrestling perilously close to the edge of the precipice near which they lay, until the cat leapt to its feet and fastidiously backed away from them.

"Nepetu is disgusted with us," Kaith gasped out when she had caught her breath. "We're not up to his standards of behavior."

"More likely he doesn't want to go over the brink with us." Nooj trapped her in the cage of his arms and bent down to kiss her thoroughly before bouncing to his own feet and pulling her up. "We'd better get back. It's getting late."

"I wonder where the other pairs go?" She leaned against his chest.

"None of our business so long as it's not here."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The darkness in the barracks was not total. Scraps of light floated in through chinks in the shutters and through the always open windows high under the eaves. There was sufficient light for Pathel to see that his charges were safe and in their right beds. For a moment the officer thought he saw a glint of light from the bunk which held the Cadet Captain and his pet coeurl, but when he checked again, both were sleeping soundly. The senior tutor smiled at the sight and was glad his own bed mate had shorter nails and more even teeth.

When the inspection tour was finished and the man out of the building, Nooj opened his eyes again. He had been so deeply engrossed in his thoughts, he had forgotten the presence of the officer. It would not do to be marked as even more exceptional. The cadets were supposed to be so tired at night they slept without even moving. To be found lying awake would be the occasion of investigation and concern. He could not afford any more attention being paid to his differences.

The conversation with Kaith during the afternoon had brought back to him the memories he had put away as useless and distracting. There were too many of them to be handled at once and too few to form a coherent narration. Nooj had only shreds of recollection of the time he had spent clinging to the tree, being whipped about by the waves and broiled by the fierce sun. Of that time before he was found, he chiefly recalled lying on his belly, his face immersed in the cool fresh water of the creek, trying to absorb as much moisture as possible through as many orifices as he could bring into use. He would, even now, feel the cool moss against his thighs and hips and the flow of the water across his chest as he sucked desperately at the sustaining fluid, inhaling it up his nose as well as through his mouth. The water had been all to him and he had nursed from the creek as though from his mother's breast, drawing the stuff of life into his nearly dead body in spite of himself.

For he knew, even at the age of six, he had been meant to die, that he had slipped the clutch of Death by the narrowest of chances and his life was forfeit at any time. Under the blazing eye of the Lord of the Day, he had died – several times – and had been thrown back as an arrogant angler will free a too small fish for another day. Nooj, in his childish fantasies, thought he was the minnow returned to the pool to grow into the great fish worth catching. He never quite disabused himself of that thought. He was never able to rid himself of the belief he owed the universe a death.

As he grew older, he felt the weight of that debt ever more heavily. At the same time, he was becoming convinced not just any death would do. It could not be as simple as stepping off the edge of one of the ledges which ringed the Calm Lands and falling through clouds and shadows until he was broken on the rocks far below. That would be a death but not the one he owed. No. He was certain only a notable death would be worthy of the great fish he was distined to become. In another two years, he would be a member of the army, one of the Crusader division. He had no doubt at all of his ability to direct his own future at least that far. Once a fully trained Warrior, he could set out on the path to find the honorable Death he needed to complete what the Great Fiend had begun. He was not yet sure how he would accomplish this or even how he would recognize the chance when it offered itself to him, but he was satisfied these things would make themselves clearer as the time neared.

Still meditating on how he would go about closing the accounts on his existence, Nooj rested his chin on the head of his warm, purring companion and, lulled by that thrumming lullaby, drifted off to sleep at last.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Jounne listened carefully to the report of his second in command. Armaq had been doing some research into the background of their experiment.

"He was orphaned at six and reared by a distant relative. No thought was given to his ever becoming anything other than a Warrior, particularly since he turned out to be so tall and strong."

"Did he have other talents which might have led to different choices? Or did his guardian just want to get rid of him as fast as possible?"

"So far as I can tell, both. His early instructors found him unusually intelligent and curious. And, his relative wanted out from under the responsibility of a child, particularly after the child killed a temple soldier with a dagger." Armaq nodded grimly. "I took a look into that incident and Nooj never seemed the least bit bothered by the deed. In fact, some of those who knew him at the time thought he enjoyed it."

Jounne smiled sardonically, "No wonder they sent him to us. Do you think he enjoyed it?"

"I don't know. He's too private for me to get a handle on him. The only ones he has ever let close since we've had him are Kaith and that damned cat. He sleeps with one or the other all the time."

"I hope you mean that symbolically where the coeurl is concerned; I would rather not have to cope with bestiality on top of all the other oddities surrounding this lad."

With a surprised laugh, the morale officer agreed. "No, he is apparently orthodox in his proclivities in that direction. But, I'm damned if I know what he's thinking most of the time."

"Do you think we should loosen or tighten the reins?" Jounne was never one to dismiss the advice of his subordinates. It was thus he maintained both control and respect.

"I would leave them as they are. He's eating and sleeping well and his connection with the girl is having some positive effects. Let's just keep watching."

"Very well. Thank you for your input." The Commander pushed himself back from his desk and prepared to stand. He had enough information for the present.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The class was proceeding normally when the instructor, Dr. Marant, posed the question. "You are all training to become Warriors in the defense of Spira. Now in your second year, you must begin thinking about what that ultimately means. How many of you have actually seriously considered that you may die in the service of the state?"

She paused and ran her eye over the students, noting that most of them were looking at their desks with a vaguely worried look on each face. No one volunteered to answer.

"Surely, you must have thought about this. Given the history of our planet, I know every one of you has had some experience of death. You have had family members slain by Sin, fiends have taken friends, I know you are not innocent of death. You must not think you are immortal just because you are young. And, you must not enter the Army without recognizing that your life may be required of you as a part of your profession." She waited. "I trust it has not escaped your notice that men and women die in wars. That military service is not all parades and applause. I am not trying to discourage you, only to make sure you understand the job you're applying for and what it may cost in the end."

Nooj lifted his eyes from the paper on which he was writing. "I have thought about it."

"And are you willing to accept the idea of your own death? With full understanding of what that means."

"Yes." There was a flatness in the one word which made it ludicrous for the instructor to challenge him. She had intended to lead the discussion into the difficulties of facing one's own death but the toll of that single word had drowned out the possibility of such argument. She heard, as did the others in the room, the absolute certainty of what he said. That he did not feel it necessary to add any qualifiers made his statement all the more believable.

Once the silence had been broken, a babble of conversation broke out, everyone trying at once to express an opinion or voice a truism on the subject. Marant sat back, not attempting to impose order, and let them ramble. She recognized this was the sort of information she had been alerted to watch for in the tall youth and that she must report it to the Commandant at the first opportunity. What was the history of the tall, thin youth with the unsmiling face?

She looked up to see him gazing at her with a disquieting air of knowing precisely what she was thinking.

Sep 13, 200551812911


	2. Chapter 2

**The Lab Rat**

II 

"Did you mean what you said in the ethics class?" Kaith leaned against his shoulder.

"Yes." He did not look up from the coeurl crouched between his feet. The animal, sensing the note of agitation in the single word, turned its head so that the long turfed whiskers tickled his nose. He batted them away and stifled a sneeze.

"I've been trying to decide if I can think about it. I'm not sure it's possible for a person to really understand her own death. It's like trying to think about nothing or not think about chocobos." She laughed nervously, a harsh forced sound.

Nooj let his head fall back against the ridge behind him, his face to the sky. "It's possible. I do it all the time. All it takes is nearly dying when you're nothing but a kid and knowing you were meant to die then."

"You don't have to tell me." She laid her hand on his forearm and squeezed lightly. He was never comfortable talking about himself, she knew that and was careful to respect the areas he indicated to be off limits.

"No. You have the right to know. You're the only one." He wound one of his braids around his finger and pulled it tight.

He was conscious of her waiting, however he remained still. Shifting his position, he pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it to the grass. "I need to stretch," he muttered and leapt to his feet. He reached to touch his toes, the still vivid scars standing out clearly on his back. Kaith watched with fascinated eyes as they seemed to take on a life of their own, writhing like narrow snakes as he bent and twisted.

Then he was off, running across the plains of the Calm Lands with the coeurl pacing him. The two young animals were glorious in their movements, the red breeches of the one and the silver fur of the other scrawling streaks of color on the green of the turf. They raced and leaped and then fell down, wrestling together, rolling over and over, their bodies combined into a mythical shape of the beast/man. Finally, they lay panting, their limbs twisted together, the lips of both pulled back in a grimace of pleasure, their breaths combining in a cloud.

When they had made their way back to the waiting Kaith, Nooj wiped the sweat from his forehead and explained in a perfunctory manner, "I've been too still all morning. I needed to burn off some ..." Unable to find the exact word, he stopped rather than be misunderstood.

Kaith patted him on his damp shoulder. "It's ok. Class can get a little boring and you need exercise. You and Nepetu, those long legs of yours were never meant to always fit under a desk." She laughed and ran an appreciative hand down his thigh and calf, feeling the lean muscle and strong sinews. "You can run almost as fast as he does. Ever thought of joining the relay team?"

Nooj caught up her hand and planted a kiss on her palm. "Nepetu lets me keep up with him. He doesn't want to be out ahead, alone. And you know I prefer our games to any others." He pushed her onto her back and lowered himself on her body, looking down at her with a meaningful gaze.

She opened her own shirt and shivered with delight as she felt his bare chest brush her nipples. "Let's play."

After a few minutes, he rolled away from her with an almost inaudibly whispered, "I'm sorry."

After a prolonged period of brooding silence, Nooj, his arms folded on his bent knees, spoke. His first words were unnaturally loud and he quickly modified the volume. "I said I would tell you and I will." he began, his voice as firm as though they were discussing the duty schedule for the second year cadets. "This may sound peculiar but it's true."

She made an indeterminate sound and settled herself to listen, re-buttoning her shirt and looking at the ground in order to avoid his glance.

"I told you I was washed out to sea when Sin came and destroyed Kilika. I was only six years old and somehow I got caught in the branches of a tree which was floating near me. I believe I died there, in that tree. I had nothing to eat, nothing to drink and I was a skinny little rat with not much to draw on. I am sure I died there." He paused and looked away from her into the distant mountains which ranged one behind the other until they dissipated into a flux of blue-grey shadows.

Kaith waited uneasily while he gathered his thoughts and continued, "Then I was on a beach with a stream of fresh water flowing into the ocean. The tree was gone and I was naked, lying just below the tide-line, in a hollow washed around my body. I crawled to the stream and rolled into it. I don't know what happened. I thought I was on the FarPlane and just lay on that rocky creek bed and absorbed water. I wasn't hungry, you see, just thirsty. I took in that sweet water through my pores, my mouth, my nose, my eyes, all my parts. Live people can't do that. So I knew I was dead and on the FarPlane. You understand?" Suddenly he turned his head and looked intently at her. He seemed to feel any disbelief would make her vanish like the fantasy of his story.

"That's why I can think about Death and it doesn't bother me. When you have already died, it can't scare you again." He looked up into the sky. "It didn't scare me then and the soldier I killed on Kilika didn't scare me, so I guess I can say I don't fear it."

It was Kaith's turn to stare. "You never told me you killed somebody. Where? Why?"

He grimaced with irritation at himself. "Never thought to mention it. Now, don't go telling anybody else. This is secret. Do you hear me? Nobody here knows about this. And I don't want them to."

She nodded, her eyes wide and worried.

"I was out with some friends, exploring, two years ago when we ran into one of the temple guards on the island. He would have killed us or held us for ransom and I didn't have any family to pay for me. So I killed him. I had to."

She shook her head at the matter-of-fact tone. "How? You were just thirteen."

Incredibly, Nooj grinned at her. It was less a grin than a rictus. "Yes, I was still a soprano then. The girl with us, she was a lot like you, stabbed him and got his attention and I took a dagger and gutted him like a fish. He took his time dying."

Kaith sat up suddenly, "I don't think I could do that. In cold blood."

"Oh, my blood wasn't cold. It was damn' hot running down my arm. He shot me in the shoulder before I could get my knife in him." He touched the scars remaining from the adventure.

"I thought those were from the flogging. They look like part of the same group."

"No. These were there first. I think by the time I am a full man, I will be nothing but scars. Some of the ones here are from the teeth of Nepetu's mother, you know. She took a bite out of me before the gunshot had finished healing." He laughed with that note of bravado she had noticed before when he was forced to talk about his wounds.

"So all this is why you think about death and aren't afraid?"

"Partly. Kaith, I'm serious when I say I think I died back when I was six. How could I have lived? No food, no water, just a baby really? There was no way I could have lived."

"Maybe it wasn't as long as you thought it was. You said you didn't know. Did anybody ever tell you how long you were lost?" She reached to touch him and quickly drew back her hand at his expression.

"I was lost for more than ten days. When they gave me to my uncle, he said he had already held a ceremony to send me." His face was rigid with control.

"But they don't know how long you were on the sea and how long on the beach," she insisted.

"No. But I have been sent once so need not have that done again." He flexed his hands in a mockery of the sacred gestures. There was a brittleness about him which was unfamiliar to the girl. "I am dead and just have to finish the formalities of turning into pyreflies."

"Nooj, don't think that. You are live, I have every reason to know that." She was convinced logic was the way to reach him.

Nooj turned and pinned her with his steady gaze. "Do you? Are you sure? Come on, we need to get back to camp. It's getting dark." The bleakness in his voice was echoed by his posture against the setting sun. He looked broken.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Commandant Jounne absently aligned the stack of papers and tapped their edges on his desk, making a muddled noise which sounded somehow appropriate to his state of mind. He held in his hands the latest reports on their experimental case, the youth Nooj. They were a mixed bag to his mind. The expedition he had requested to test the lad's judgment had been completed in a satisfactory manner. Jounne smiled at the ingenuity of Dvala who had the inspiration to make the mission a copy of the one which had landed Nooj stretched across the flogging horse toward the end of his first year of training. The man remembered with amusement the look on the Cadet Captain's face when he had been told he was to lead a group of his fellow students to retrieve a badge from a chest on a ledge to the west. He had stammered something about having done that before snapping to attention and saluting like the good soldier he was being taught to be. That was the ticket! Keep him just a little off balance and see how he did.

If only the reverse were not also true. Jounne separated out and re-read the report from Marant. He should not have been surprised at what he saw there. He had known much about the boy's background from the beginning of this term and should have assumed Nooj would have thought about death. After all, he had nearly died himself and had killed a grown man before coming to the training camp. However, this report of a coolly calm response to the idea was unsettling. The report from Pathel was also disturbing. The boy was not sleeping well; Pathel had found him sitting on the edge of his bunk far into the night on several occasions and, for some reason, he had banished the coeurl from his bed. The beast lay disconsolately on the floor as near his master as possible and menaced any who came close.

Jounne had himself observed Nooj often during the past week. There were obvious changes taking place in the cadet. He had had another growth surge, which was not uncommon amongst Spiran youths at his age and was now near what his adult height would likely be. But he had not bulked up as was also usual. The mess attendants, set to watch, reported that he was eating little and skipping meals more often than was healthy. His legs, which had been strong and shapely, now appeared rather spindly although he was still the fastest sprinter of his year, his long limbs covering the ground with wide strides, seeming almost at times to fly.

With a resigned sigh, Jounne again tapped the edges of the sheaf on his desktop. It had begun as an experiment to try to keep and mold a promising cadet, perhaps the most promising of his generation. Now, was it all falling apart because of some unknown flaw in the subject? He made a mental note to tap some sources he had cultivated amongst the students, some toadies he despised but nonetheless found to be useful.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

When he was nine years old and the Sin which had killed his parents was in its turn slain, Nooj had felt a sudden panic in his gut. Who would he now fight and kill to avenge his family? Where would he find the honorable death he required? Too young to realize another Sin would soon appear, he mourned the loss of his chance to die properly and feared he must resign himself to bearing the shame of his inaction forever. For in fact, he could not conceive of dying from natural causes - not for himself.

When the new Sin arose and the world girded to fight again, he was comforted and eager to join the Army to take his chance. All had proceeded as expected and he had felt himself on his way to his destiny until the instructor had thrown the topic of death onto the table. He was still unafraid to die, but the memory of the last Great Calm had floated again to the surface, carrying with it all the urgency it had accrued during the past six years. What if he missed this one as well? Would he be able to last through another Calm of uncertain length with his skills and strength intact? He cursed his youth in a frenzy of impatience. The frustration of being prepared to go to war without the right to do so drove him like a maddened beast to lash out and withdraw simultaneously. He was prickly, unable to tolerate any persons, edgy even with Nepetu. Food actively repelled him and he found relief only in running until he fell numb from exhaustion. He crept often into the more barren areas of the great plains, with only the coeurl beside him and ran, senselessly and blindly, until he felt only the aches in his legs and chest and would throw himself on the grass to stare vacantly into the sky, the cat panting at his feet.

When he saw Kaith, he felt a guilt toward her. All his desire for her had vanished yet he could tell she still wanted him. There was nothing he could do, not even a sensible explanation he could offer her. His entire consciousness was fixed on the need to go hunt his Death in confronting Sin. It was a compulsion more powerful than the passions of the flesh and consumed his body and mind. He lusted for the Nothingness he believed lay waiting for him when next he faced the Great Evil. He hungered for extinction as gluttons dream of feasts and could not be satisfied with less. He could not wait. It was intolerable. Life itself rasped him like sand on exposed nerves.

Feverish with a longing for Death, Nooj clawed mindlessly into the rough ground, the coeurl observing its master with unease. Suddenly the youth surged to his knees and, spreading out his arms, flung back his head and howled a huge despairing cry to the stone deaf and unheeding heavens.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"So, we are agreed the third year cadets will be permitted ..." Jounne looked up from his notes at the sound of a scuffle outside the closed door of the meeting room. Muffled shouts gave way to the crash of a door forced open with some violence.

"You can't go in there!" the sentry's voice was nearly a scream "They're meeting!"

The assembled senior staff stared with astonishment as a bedraggled body was propelled into the room, stopped only by its collision with the wide conference table. The figure emitted a sudden explosion of breath as its midsection met the edge of the wood.

"Nooj!" Jounne was the first to recognize the intruder. "What do you think you're doing? Get out of here at once!"

"No. I have to talk to you. I'm leaving. I can't wait – I've got to get ..." He lost his voice as he became aware of the eyes transfixing him with astonished glares. He shook his head like a baffled bull in the arena and slowly drew himself into a military pose and saluted his Commandant.

"Sorry, sir. Permission to speak, sir."

Jounne scowled at the lad before him. What in the name of Yevon had happened to the youth? He was painfully thin, his hair tangled into clumps, his eyes wildly showing the whites on all sides and the starched uniform which he always affected reduced to a soiled, wrinkled mess which looked as though it had been worn for a week or more. "Permission denied. You are out of order, cadet. Leave this room at once."

Again, Nooj shook his head. "No sir. I have to speak to you – now."

Jounne gestured, "Guards, remove this cadet and put him under arrest."

As though only now understanding the dismissive words of his superior, Nooj drooped and slowly crumpled to the floor, collapsed into an unseemly heap as he was dragged from the room by two soldiers. He made no effort to resist, not even when one of them gripped him by his long disheveled braids and used them as a handle to pull him to his feet.

Whainlee let out a long breath. "Well, so much for the experiment."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

In the area of the armory which served as a makeshift jail, Nooj sat with his elbows on his knees, holding his head in his hands, fighting against the vertigo which threatened to fell him. Whatever had possessed him to do that? He knew better. Why had he done it? Now he was in for it again. They would certainly flog him; he was resigned to that. Then a thought hit him with a chilling blow – they might take Nepetu away. He could bear the scourge but the loss of his other self? ... It was as though a fever had broken and his madness of the past month had dissipated. With a snort of disgust, he smelled himself. How long had it been since he had bathed and changed his clothes? He could not remember. He retched dryly at the stench of his body. If his stomach had not been already empty, he would have vomited up his repulsion. What had happened to him? He had more control than that. The noise of the barred door creaking open made him lift his head.

Jounne stood there, his arms folded and his expression stern. "Are we going to have to play out this scenario once a year? What is it going to take to make you a decent Warrior?" He advanced into the room. "Well, let's get it over with. Strip."

Shivering, Nooj stood and obeyed, then followed his Commandant into the largest room, occasionally touching the wall to assure his balance. They were alone together and without a word, the youth staggered over to the flogging horse and stretched himself across the framework. Also silently, Jounne buckled the worn leather cuffs around the narrow wrists and picked up the whip he had placed in readiness before he had unlocked the cell. He would do the punishing himself. His anger and disappointment needed an outlet. He looked at the ribs showing as clearly as in an anatomical textbook and firmed his purpose. Discipline was not always a pleasure. With an inward sigh, he brought the lash down on its target.

When he had finished and thrown a bucket of water across the blooded back of his victim, he caught Nooj by the forearm and hauled him upright. "Now, what the hell was the idea of that? By rights I ought to kick you out on your arse all the way back to Kilika."

The boy stood naked before the man, still shaking and unsteady, his head weaving with exhaustion and confusion. "I'm sorry, sir. It won't happen again. May I stay?"

"Oh, get dressed. I've invested too much in you to throw you out now. I know it won't happen again. I want to know why it happened in the first place. ... Don't look so patheticl, I know what you're worrying about; you can keep your cat." Jounne smiled grimly at the look of surprised happiness which illuminated the lad's face. "Get dressed and let's talk."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

More than an hour later, the Commandant stood up from the barrel on which he had been sitting and walked to loom over the youth, "You should have told me this when you first came. You've let it fester like a deep puncture. No wonder you went crazy. Lad, you have time. This thing will not be over as soon as you fear. The Summoners have not even started their Pilgrimages yet. You have time to face this Sin after you've been trained. You'll be useful then. You can go into the Crusaders; they're the front line. Don't worry, you'll see all the action you want with them. But you don't have to die, you know."

Nooj did not meet his eyes. He had told his story slowly and haltingly, encouraged by the calm demeanor of the older man, the intense attention paid to every detail he was willing to share. He had held back only the part about believing he had already died, instead substituting the less incendiary, if somewhat specious, claim that he felt himself required to fight Sin in order to avenge the deaths of his family. His back stung with the touch of his shirt on the torn skin but he was calmer in his mind, persuaded his greatest fear was unfounded. He would have his chance to die with honor – as a Crusader. "Yessir. May I go bathe now, sir? I stink."

"Go ahead. Then go to the mess hall. You need some food and then some sleep. You're excused from classes today." Jounne watched carefully as the frail figure moved through the heavy doors and disappeared. Had this advanced or set back the experiment? There was no way to be sure so soon but at least Nooj was functional again. He would fit well with those maniacs in the Crusaders.

Just outside the wide doors, Kaith had been waiting. She had cringed at the sound of the snapping whip and strained to hear if its prey cried out. All she could hear was the angry voice of Jounne and, later, the soft murmur of two male voices of differing timbres. So she waited. She supposed she would be punished for missing classes. Somewhat dazedly she wondered if females were also flogged. She had never heard of such a case, then the door opened and he emerged.

"Nooj," she called softly. "I've got some ointment. Come, let me help."

"Kaith, you'll get in trouble." It was the first time in weeks he had spoken to her as though he remembered what they had been to one another. "I'm going to shower. I smell like a stable."

"I'll wait for you. You must hurt." She stretched to gingerly stroke the sweaty hair back from his face and smiled tremulously at him. With a hesitant finger, she traced the line of his lips. It was the first time she had touched him since the day he had revealed so much of his history to her.

He caught her hand and kissed the palm. "It's not that bad. Only ten with the whip, not the cat. But all right. We'll figure out an excuse for you somehow." The assurances from Jounne had steadied him and he thought he could make it to the barracks without falling. Particularly if he rested his hand on her shoulder.

Unnoticed behind them, Jounne smiled with satisfaction. The experiment could continue. He would personally arrange cover for the girl.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

That night, Nooj stretched out on his bunk, of a necessity on his stomach. Kaith had spread the soothing salve over the fresh cuts on his back and it had helped but he was not yet up to putting more pressure there. The other cadets had uttered a louder than usual gasp when he removed his shirt but they were not all that surprised by the marks since the story of his importunate actions had spread throughout the camp during the day.

He was sleeping nude this night because the rough texture of the sleeping shirt was not to be considered. With his cheek pillowed on the soft warm neck of Nepetu and his belly moderately full, he was comfortable enough and the combination of exhaustion and the easing of his worries made sleep far more certain than it had been in recent nights. He felt as though he had passed through a fever dream and now the world was solid again.

He shifted slightly, feeling deep within himself the comforting core of the knowledge that in little more than a year, he would be free to go hunting Death with the blessing of authority. No longer frantically driven, he calmly bedded down with his destiny. He owed the Universe a life and he was ready, no - eager - to discharge that debt. In addition, he had neither flinched nor cried out under the whip. His dignity was intact. He was as close to happiness as he was likely to come for a long time.

Sep 18, 200551812913


End file.
